All the things time cannot erase
by sweetet89
Summary: End of the 2 season He came back, determined to win her back. He was going to do it in the perfect way; he bought her favorite flowers, gifts and had a romantic speech to say for a lovely hole-in-one. He didn’t imagine that she wouldn’t show up.
1. Moving on

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cecily von Zeigesar and The CW.**

**Author's Note**: This story goes during "The Goodbye Gossip Girl", after the party.

****

* * *

**Prologue **

_There's someone I've been missing  
I think that they could be  
The better half of me  
They're in the wrong place trying to make it right  
**Come Home- OneRepublic **_

**Fra****nce, Paris, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Boulevard Saint-Germain, 2015**

Her eyes were still closed when she heard someone opening the door of her bedroom.

She immediately covered herself with the blanket, hiding her face.

_Normally_ when a boy slept with her, she snuck out of bed in the early morning to wash her face, put a little bit of powder on her cheeks, and comb her curls.

Then she came back to bed and pretended to be asleep.

That way, when the man next to her would wake up, he would just be there staring at her, enchanted by her unspeakable 'natural beauty'; just like the prince look at the princess in the Snow White or in the Sleeping Beauty fairytales she loved so much.

But that morning she wasn't waiting for anyone, so she wasn't ready to greet anybody.

"Go. Away!" Blair screamed under the silk bedding, knowing there was just one person in the world that was able to baffle her maid. Her soon-to-be-fired maid, that is.

"_Bonjour Mademoiselle_! I took you breakfast." a happy male voice greeted her, making sure to ignore her morning tantrum. He was _so_ used to it.

"You can leave it on the nightstand and go. _NOW_!" she muffled , speaking clearly on the last word, and hoping it would be enough to be let alone by the intruder.

"Blair please… This is the last morning we can spend together." He sat at the edge of the bed with the tray still in his hands.

"In the afternoon you will take a flight for New York and I will be having breakfast alone for the next many weeks. I've already seen you just waking up, and you are beautiful. Come on…_please_!" he was begging now.

"Fine!" she said with a dramatic voice, giving up -but _only_ because he called her beautiful.

So she moved the sheets from her body and took off her night mask.

He greeted her with a kiss.

Blair sat down in the bed and, with her unmistakable royal attitude, pointed for him to open the curtains to let the sun come in. When he kept standing there, with no intention of moving, she rose her eyebrows, giving him what she liked call an 'look of encouragement'.

He immediately understood when he received what he has named the 'brutal Waldorf glare' and stood up.

"I'm sorry for my slow reflex! I'm already useless, thinking you not being here." He sulked while the sunlight enlightened the room.

"Oh you're so sweet…" she offered him her brightest smile, the one she used every time she needed of something, and then she added, "But you'd be even more kind if you gave me your croissant and took my fruit away."

Blair was in the mood for calories today. Maybe it was the anxiety for the flight.

She was still upset about the airline's refusal to give her the pilot's curriculum as good service's guarantee.

"Ok, but can you spell out me again why you have to leave me?" he inquired while he gave her his plate.

"Aaron, my stepbrother, is going to marry a crazy dancer he met in a bar –how gross, by the way- and, even if I barely know him, I have to attend the celebration." She explained, slightly bored about the weird relative.

It was embarrassing to share the family picture with someone who lived in the Village and didn't care about class, money or style.

"And I understand that, but what I don't understand is why you have to leave _so early_." he remarked bitterly.

"Because my mum asked me to help her with the arrangements. Aaron's mother and the bride-to-be are driving her crazy."

She took a sip of coffee to hide the smile she couldn't keep from forming on her face- just thinking about how funny it will be watching the daily Eleanor meltdowns has her lips turning up.

"Enough with the question." she ordered him pushing her index finger against his chest, realizing he was going to speak again.

She got up and walked towards the closet where un evening gown hung in the middle.

"Talking about more important things: what do you think about this?" she asked, showing him her lastest purchase.

"I was thinking about wearing this dress with Loboutin shoes and a necklace." She added without even looking at him anymore, just observing herself in the mirror with critical eye, considering how she could be like with that outfit.

"Which necklace you were thinking about?"

"This is a black Chanel: it _screams_ for pearls!" she answered like it was the most evident thing in the world.

"Blair, how many times have I told you?" he said then "Your father is gay, your mother is one of the most famous fashion designer ever. You don't need my advices: style is in your DNA!"

She smiled, flattered by the compliment.

"Have I already told you how much I love you today?" she asked playfully.

"Mmm… Not yet!" he answered after a brief moment.

"In that case… I love you, Pierre Couatret!"

*******

**USA, New York, Manhattan, The Palace, 2015**

Chuck Bass took a seat at the bar's counter.

Looking at him there was no sign that could have let people know that he had just spent all his day working.

His tie was perfectly knotted, his shirt stiff, his jacket didn't have even a crease.

His appearance was simply flawless.

If only someone would look at his eyes, then maybe they would catch a dark shadow from exhaustion.

But no one really knew Chuck Bass, and no one cared enough about him to pay attention to details. That, and most people were scared by his imposing and overbearing demeanor.

He gave a simple nod toward the bartender and his glass was instantly filled with the best scotch in the bar, the one reserved for the owner.

Chuck's loneliness was soon interrupted by Nate, who clapped a hand on his back.

"Hey, man!" he greeted him, taking a seat next to his friend. "I was starting to think that you wouldn't come tonight. It's almost ten o'clock!"

Chuck raised one eyebrow and swallowed his drink. Once he placed the glass on the counter, he looked Nate in the eyes and, with the tone of someone who already knows everything about the life, said:

"Unfortunately for me, dear Nathaniel, my job doesn't consist of shaking hands and hugging ugly babies. Not everyone is lucky like you." he concluded bringing the refilled glass on his lips.

Nate laughed at Chuck's idea about his carrier as a politician.

"If you think it's so simple, then why don't you try to gain a chair in Washington?" he mocked him.

Chuck shrugged and pursed his lips, like he was really wondering about what his friend had said.

"Archibald… I'm impressed! You have just done what people call '_sarcasm_'. I didn't think you were capable to do such things!"

After a brief moment, he added "Seriously, you know my opinion about the word _compromise_; losers use it!!"

"Yes, the problem is that and the high number of skeletons hidden in your closet that people could find and use against you!" Nate tried to joke.

But this sentence only gained him a glare from Chuck.

Nonetheless he didn't seem frightened by that because, after all these years of friendship, he learned that this kind of nasty look wasn't really dangerous: it was just his best friend's personal way of letting you know that he was pissed off.

"Come on… stop talking and let's drink." he suggested then, no wanting make his friend really angry.

"You're completely right Nathaniel: let's rest your brain for the rest of the night!" he agreed.

At the fifth round, while Nate started laughing without a real reason, Chuck kept sipping his drinks, one after the other, without giving a sign of drunkenness.

Just as he drained his glass, a hot blond girl got next to the counter and ordered a cosmopolitan. He smirked, because the choice of a blonde was such a womenly cliché, but staring at her long tan legs and at her large collar, he decided that girl's tastes were not important.

So, when she was about to give the bartender her credit card, he laid a hand on her arm and introduced himself.

"Please, let me buy your drink. Such a beautiful woman should _never_ pay for her own cosmopolitan."

He placed a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, just to show her that he really was a rich man.

She looked captivated by his charm, and let his hand stroked her uncovered skin.

Taking that as a positive sign, he went on.

"And, more importantly, I think you should _never_ drink all alone.

Why don't we keep drinking _together_? In my suite?" he asked with a sexy voice, giving a little smirk in the end.

The young girl, who immediately recognized the richest man of the Upper East Side, was thrilled by the idea of spending the night with the most notorious playboy in New York but, playing the game of seduction perfectly, she didn't agreed immediately.

"And you are?" she asked instead, pretending a shyness that didn't belong to her.

Chuck grinned, because he knew she was already aware of the answer. Everyone knows his name.

He wet his lips and stretched out one hand, enjoying the pleasure of using his favorite line.

"I'm Chuck Bass."


	2. Memories

**Chapter one**

_I was feeling sad  
Can't help looking back  
Highways flew by  
Run, run, run away  
No sense of time  
Want you to stay  
Want keep you inside_

**Runaway- Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**John F. Kennedy International Airport****, Queens, New York, 2015**

"Can I help you?" a steward was smiling politely at Blair, ready to satisfy her every desire.

After have been sat for six hours, all she wanted was to stop listening to someone behind her chew gum, get off this tin can, let her Pour La Victorie heels touch the ground instead of this low-quality carpet and have a hot bath.

But looking at him she understood he was just a flying waiter, incapable of pleasing her.

So she simply asked for another glass of sparkling wine and drank it up. This should be enough to relax her body and keep her nerves strong, at least until the landing.

But no matter how numb she was (thanks to the alcohol in her system) in that moment or how hard she tried to entertain herself listening to music and reading magazines, when a metallic voice called upon the passengers to fasten the seatbelts she _knew_ the worst moment of the trip was going to happen.

So Blair closed her eyes and held her breath waiting for the plane to stop moving, praying to God that the pilot wasn't inept. When she was sure the plane had landed and she was safe and sound, she released a deep breath and glanced out the window.

The view through the window made her finally realize she was in New York. She was home.

Outside the plane, a couple of men were already waiting for her to take care of her luggage.

Once they settled the entire Louis Vuitton suitcases' set on the trailer trucks, Blair walked towards the exit, where a limousine was waiting for her, but she stopped when she heard a voice calling her name.

She turned and immediately caught sight of a familiar shape among the crowd. Blair would recognize it anywhere.

She grimaced and raised her eyebrows, waiting for the distance between her and her unexpected '_Welcome back committee_' to decrease.

"What are you doing here?" that's all she asked, rolling her eyes and titled her head to show her disfavor.

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Out****side of the Plaza, 2009**

"_What are you doing here?" she was so astonished to see her best friend here, after they'__d said goodbye just a few minutes earlier, to not notice how upset she was._

"_B…" her voice was trembling; she seemed to be almost unable to talk, as if the only sound that would come out of her mouth was the sob she was holding in her throat._

"_Oh my God!" Blair whispered, really concerned, once she watched her closely. _

"_What's happened? What's wrong?" she asked taking Serena's hands, hoping that this gesture would give her the strength to answer her questions._

_The last time they had a conversation like that, it turned out she thought she was a murderer. _

_Blair really hoped this time the situation was different because with Chuck in Europe and Nate being Nate, she would have to handle it alone. _

"_I've found him. I've found my dad." Serena mumbled, wiping away a tear from her face. _

_Blair blinked a couple of times, clueless about what to say or think: she didn't even know Serena was still looking for Mr. Van der Woodsen._

_She promised her she had stopped after what happened in Santorini._

"_I don't know what to do. I- I don't think I can't face everything by myself." She continued, giving voice to a question she didn't dare to make. _

_Looking in Serena's eyes, Blair understood she had not time for questions or reproaches: she couldn't let Serena ruin her life because of her father again. _

"_It's okay." She paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath, and double-checking that she was sure about the decision she was going to take._

"_Just tell me where are we going so I can decide what put in my suitcase." She concluded resolutely. She would not let her best friend go this alone._

"_Really? Are you coming with me to Fiji?" Serena was relieved; she really needed her best friend now, more than ever._

"_Let's face it S, you don't give your best in stressful situations. _

_I can't let you come back home looking and acting like the new Paris Hilton. God forbid us!" she concluded with a theatrical voice, bringing a hand on her heart to make everything a little bit more dramatic._

_Serena immediately filled up the distance between them and, tightening her in a hug, whispered "I love you B."_

"_I love you too S" she replied embracing her too._

_Blair was still hugging her best friend when she spotted someone got out the limo._

_She blinked twice, just to be sure that it wasn't a hallucination, a trick of her mind._

"_You have got to be kidding me!" she whispered when she realized he was really there. _

**John F. Kennedy International Airport, Queens, New York, 2015**

"You have _got_ to be kidding me! I told you on the phone to not come to the airport!" Blair tried to show her disappointment, but she was too happy of seeing her best friend to be really mad with her.

Serena didn't even bother to reply, she just opened her arms and squeezed her in a tight hug.

"Oh B! I know I should have waited for you at the penthouse, but I've missed you so much. I'm so glad you're here!" she said excited.

"I've missed you too, but please release me now. I can't breathe!" she muffled.

"Good! That's your punishment for having been away for so long!" she said, letting her go.

"You spend too much time with the Humphreys. I'm seriously worried about you.

What's next? You're going to speak like one of Sopranos?" she asked doubtfully.

"So you'll find a resemblance with Ch-" the last word died on her lips.

Blair stiffened for a moment, but immediately forced herself to smile, pretending she didn't hear the last sentence.

_He_ had no effect to her. She wasn't weak anymore.

"At least this time you didn't show up with Carter by your side. I think you're making progress." she changed the subject as they headed for the exit.

"Please B, spare me that speech; I still remember the one you gave me during the entire NY-Fuji flight!" she rolled her eyes, not wanting hear another _Waldorf scolding_.

"_Fine_!"she snapped "But don't forget that I was right about him and your stupid decision about taking him with us during our 'research'. Remember, I'm always right. About _everything_." she emphasized the last word.

"Not always, and not about everything!" her friend corrected her.

"You told me I shouldn't come to pick you up because I would be surrounded by paparazzi, and instead…" she could not finish the phrase because, right outside the airport gate, flashes started hitting them.

Blair threw her a glare, not even trying to hide her face from the flashes.

***

**The Palace, Manhattan, New York, 2015**

A black stretch-limousine stopped on the edge of the sidewalk, right outside the Palace.

As soon as the car parked, the doorman of the building opened the main entrance, but Chuck barely noticed him; he was too busy checking the current quotations of Bass Industries on his Blackberry.

Without taking his eyes off the display screen, he walked across the lobby of the Palace to the elevator, nodding to everyone that greeted him.

Just when the elevator doors closed behind his back, he placed the phone in his pocket, enjoying the silence of the empty space. A yawn escaped from his lips, but he quickly covered it.

As the years went by, old habits died hard; he still slept few hours at night, preferring the pleasure of women rather than sleep. A smirk came with this thought, recalling the redhead he _entertained_ last night.

The familiar tinkle pointed out that he had arrived to the last floor, where his secretary was already waiting for him. She welcomed her boss with a cup of black coffee (like every morning) and rushed to his side.

He took the mug and took a couple of sips of the black beverage; immediately he felt the exhaustion leaving his body.

While he walked towards the office, his assistant read off the appointments of the day and, on the last item of the list she read off of, she reminded him of the family dinner that was planned for that evening.

Chuck immediately stopped and gave her a bewildered look; he barely took part in the Humphrey-Van der Woodsen homecomings, so he never bothered to schedule them on his calendar.

"I'm sorry Mr. Bass, but Mrs. Lily called twice this morning pleading me to remind you of this dinner."

"And it's only eight o'clock _now_!" he mumbled, slightly bored about Lily's insistence. Every week she tried to involve him in these stupid family things.

"She said you've 'already skipped the last two.'" She said, quoting Lily's exact words.

"Send her flowers and sign an apologetic card for me. I really cannot make it tonight." He still had to recover from the last one, where Humphrey went on and on about his new job; he thought he would die of boredom.

He left her another couple of notes, then entered his office and closed the door behind him. He sat in the comfortable armchair that he had personally chosen and drank the last few drops of his coffee.

Now he was really ready to work.

On the desk was his mail, a stack of documents, and the newspaper he looked over a couple of bar graphs and signed some sheets, then worked on a new project he was going to propose to his business associates.

It was almost time for the brunch with the board of directors when he finally decided to take a break and read the newspaper.

He opened the daily paper, absently reading the news and financial page. He kept flipping through it when a picture stopped him before he turned to the sports page.

On the page six there was his stepsister, smiley as always, with a petite brunette by her side.

Instinctively he tightened his jaw, while a thought entered his mind: she was back.

**Somewhere on Fifth Avenue, Manhattan, New York, 2009**

_Here he was. After two years, he was finally ready to tell Blair he loved her too._

_At Nate's party he has been so scared of his feelings: knowing she slept with his uncle hurt him, and the fear of being hurt again by the only person in the world with this power frightened him so much that he ran away again._

_He flew across the Atlantic Ocean wishing it was possible forget the sound of her laugh, the taste of her kisses, the smell of her skin; but everywhere he went she caught up with him. _

_In Paris all he could think about was the moan that escaped form Blair's lips every time she ate macaroons, the smile she gave him when he tried to bribe her with aphrodisiac food , the sparkle in her eyes talking about her last visit to his father, her voice softly singing La vie en Rose._

_In __Germany everything reminded him of her stockings that hid her skin and how much those stockings drove him crazy, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hair tickling his neck during their make out sessions, her fingers sliding into his collar. _

_In Italy he couldn't help thinking back to the week after his father's wedding: the smile that nothing was able to wipe away from his face, the fluttering butterflies he felt in his stomach when she entered the room, the plans they made together for that summer, her amused look for his perfect behavior, the 'good morning' and 'good night' calls he got every day, the way they always ended with an "You're a moron!"._

_So __He came back, determined to win her back. He was going to do it in the perfect way; he bought her favorite flowers, gifts and had a romantic speech to say for a lovely hole-in-one. _

_He didn't imagine that she wouldn't show up._

_Eric told him Blair had something important to resolve with Jenny Humphrey at the Plaza, so he was waiting next to his limo somewhere between the restaurant and the Waldorf penthouse._

**The Palace, Manhattan New York, 2015**

Chuck closed the newspaper, rolled it in a ball and threw it away in the waste bin.

Maybe it was a stupid and childish reaction, but it made him feel better for a moment.

He shook his head then, realizing it was not the right way to face the whole thing. _She_ had no effect him. He wasn't… whatever he was six years ago anymore. He had moved on, many times with many women.

While he was thinking about all the girls that passed through his bed in the last six years, someone knocked on the door.

He stopped looking at an indefinite point on the wall and moved his attention to his secretary, who was informing him that it was time to meet the board.

He thanked her and, before going out, checked his imagine in the mirror. He adjusted his bowtie –another one of his old habits – and this little motion brought back others memories of when Blair took care of him.

A light-bulb went off in his mind.

"Michelle, change of plans: forget the marigolds and buy a bottle of red wine: I have a family dinner to attend tonight!"

Maybe, after all this time, the moment for the answers was finally arrived.


	3. Missing

**Chapter 3**

_I find the map and draw a straight line  
Over rivers, farms, and state lines  
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be  
It's only finger-lengths that I see  
I touch the place where I'd find your face  
My finger in creases of distant dark places_

**Set the fire to the third bar-Snow Patrol****  
**

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Waldorf's Penthouse, 2015**

"I can't believe it!" Blair snorted over the phone -clearly upset- walking back and forth in her old bedroom.

"Come on… it's not that bad!" Pierre tried to calm her down, knowing Blair's was over-reacting.

She called him in the middle of thenight, yelling senseless words like _plot_ and _manipulation_.

Obviously her problem was so huge that it caused her forget about the jet lag.

"Not bad? _Not bad_?" she repeated the last two words he used twice, and this was not a good sign. Not at all.

"My mother set me up… she practically forced me to babysit Aaron's fiancé for the next weeks so she could not turn this wedding into a _Hot N' Cold_ video. Jeez, you're right… How could this be _bad_?" she asked sarcastically, raising her voice on the last word to give it more dramatic mean.

She paused then, but the French boy didn't even try to reply –knowing she wdone yet. Throughout the years he learned –at his own expenses- Blair Waldorf meltdowns were always dangerous to face, even if he was on the other side of the world.

"I'm stuck with the rough copy of Britney Spears: of course it's bad!" she concluded, annoyed as she crashed on the bed. It was exhausting explain her reasons all the time, to everyone.

"_Ma chérie,_ listen to me, you're not looking at this from the right prospective.

Think about it: you could make up for her lack of elegance; teach her the secrets to living on the Upper East Side and do a complete _extreme makeover _on her!" he explained, trying to make everything a little bit more interesting.

"Come on… I know you love planning events and bossing people around, not counting the fact that this could be a good excuse to team up with Dorota again… you two have a lot of code names left to use!"

Blair pushed a wisp of hair back from her face, thinking about this new and absolutely unexpected point of view.

"Damn you!" she snapped then and, in a rather childish movement, she stamped her foot on the ground for emphasis.

He heard the Louboutin's fall to the ground and smiled: he'd made his point.

"_Fine_, I'm going to turn Cinderella's pumpkin into a real wedding. But just so we're clear.. I hate you!" she sighed.

"_Au contraire_, you love me so much!" he gloated.

Just when she was going to reply with a bitchy remark, she noticed something on the dresser.

"I have to go. I'll call you later." she hung up without even waiting his response.

***

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Waldorf's Penthouse, 2009**

"_I have to go. I'll call you later, at the airport!" Blair reassured Dorota, who was fallowing her like a puppy, looking with watchful eyes as dress upon dress was put in the baggage. _

"_Miss Blair, please, let me know where you going!" she kept begging for a further explanation, not satisfied with the one she got. She knew it was a lie._

"_Dorota, I've already told you: I need to relax for a while before college starts." _

_She was elusive on purpose: Serena begged her to not tell anyone about Mr. Van Der Woodsen's hunt, in order to avoid people finding out._

"_But this was not your plan for summer." her maid objected. "You said you-"_

"_I changed my mind!" she interrupted her more harshly than she had intended to._

_Blair immediately realized she'd crossed the line, so she took her attention away from Marc Jacobs and Diane von Furstenberg dresses and drew in a deep breath, trying to hold her composure._

"_I _have to_ go away for a while." She swallowed the lump in her throat, which she couldn't help but developed every time she thought about how screwed her life was at the moment. _

" _This time bitching around will be not enough to make me feel better._

_This time I need to spend time somewhere, where nothing will make me think about… _him_." She said the last word with a lower tone and bowed her head. _

_It was time to let go of her fantasies, so she took her cell out of her purse and placed it on the dresser, with no intention of taking it with her. _

_He wouldn't call anyway._

***

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Waldorf's Penthouse, 2015**

Chuck didn't call.

She knew it. It was a matter of fact that he didn't care about her. Never had, never would.

But, despite her rational thoughts, she couldn't help but be tossed and turned around her old orange phone, torturing it and herself.

The curiosity was killing her. It would be just a moment, the time to discover if he left her a voicemail. Just to be sure she did the right thing leaving him behind.

She almost gave in to temptation, when her Blackberry started to ring.

The sound made Blair jolt, taking her back to reality: she was sure about her life's choices and, in terms of her desires, the last thing she need was another disappointment.

So she threw the old orange cell in the trash, where it was supposed to be, along with her old dreams.

***

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Humphrey-Van Der Woodsen Penthouse, 2015 **

Chuck was annoyed. He always hated this kind of family dinners, where everyone pretended to be happy to see each other; he didn't give a damn about Humphreys and they weren't too thrilled to listen his sarcastic comments for an entire night.

Lily seemed to be the only one who really enjoyed the moments spent with her very extended family.

Leaving the elevator he put on a polite smile on his face and walked towards his stepmother, who immediately greeted him with a hug.

"I'm so glad you could make it, Charles." She said, pointing out his missing during the last weeks.

He nodded and showed her his peace offering "And I'm not here empty handed. I brought wine."

After handing her the bottle he stepped further into the room and sat down on the couch next to Eric, the only person in this creepy place he was actually glad to see.

He gave him a glass filled with scotch, smiling at him sympathetically, knowing how hard it was for him to be there.

"Where is your sister?" he asked to break the silence.

"She's in the study. Talking at the phone with..." Eric answered vacantly, but in the moment the words escaped from his mouth, all the pieces about this unexpected presence took place in his mind and suddenly everything was clear.

"You already know it." he broke out, lowering his voice at the end not wanting draw the attention on them and straightening up on the couch, excited by the unexpected discover.

"What?" Chuck pretended to be confused, but his tighten jaw betrayed him.

"Admit it. You know that _she_'s back." Eric's lips turned up: he always rooted for Chuck and Blair as couple.

"I have no idea about what are you talking about!" Chuck defended himself bringing the glass on his mouth and cursing himself for being so obvious when it came to _her_.

"Of course you do; you're Chuck Bass." Eric mocked him, enjoying the sight of his step-brother _uncomfortable_. Something like that only happened once in a lifetime.

"No, I don't." he replied, a little too quickly to be honest.

Since words seemed to be useless, Chuck glared at him, hoping it would be enough to let him leave him alone.

"Yes you do; you still care about Blair." This time there was no joke in his voice, but just fraternal concern and no nasty look could make it disappear.

"I preferred when you mourning endless Jason!" Chuck said then, pissed off about all this questions.

He swallowed his drink and turned his gaze on Eric, but the shadow of sadness in his eyes made him regret what he had just said. He was an idiot to mention his step-brother ex-boyfriend.

Trying to apologize, he put a hand on Eric's shoulder and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry. I'm a moron!"

***

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Palace suit, 2009**

"_I'm sorry. I'm a moron!" he closed his eyes, trying to find the right thing to say next. "I screwed up. Again. I know that now you are mad at me but please, Blair" his voice softened a little speaking her name "I-I really need to tell you something and I don't want to do it by telephone. Least of all by a voicemail." He hesitated for a moment, not too sure about what to say next._

"_So Waldorf, call me back as soon as you can… or text me. Just tell me where you are, and I'll come." _

_He kept calling her in the last two days, but her phone was always dead and he was starting to hate the stupid answering machine. Not counting that un unfamiliar feeling of fear was starting to take possession over him._

_When his blackberry started to ring he quickly grabbed it, but there wasn't Blair's name on the display. _

"_What's new Mike?" he asked, after taking the call._

"_Actually… nothing." The P.I. paused for a moment, scared about his boss reaction. _

"_Miss Waldorf hadn't used his phone in the last forty-eight hours, and she hasn't used her credit card for shopping, either. Travel companies haven't recorded her name in their registers and she didn't book a hotel room to her name. It's like… she's disappeared." He said the last word in a whisper._

"_Well Michael," Chuck said , ready to discharge all his anger on his inept worker "I don't pay you for believing in paranormal, so cut the crap and find her or I'll make you regret the day you were born." _

_After he shouted that threat over the phone his threaten, Chuck ended the conversation without waiting for a replay, more upset than he'd been before._

_Trying to calm down, he filled the glass on his desk with scotch but, instead of gulp it down, he grasped the drink and threw it against the wall. _

***

**USA, New York, Manhattan, Humphrey-Van Der Woodsen Penthouse, 2015**

"Sis!" Chuck nodded to his step-sister, making his entrance in the room that once was Bart's office.

"Chuck! What are you doing here?" Serena asked curiously, not expecting his presence at all. He always found excuses to miss family dinners.

"Your mother stalked me." he joked, leaning on the doorframe.

"Who were you talking at the phone?" he asked her, though he was pretty sure about the answer.

"Me? No one. Absolutely no one." she looked uncomfortable to say at least. Serena was a terrible liar.

Nonetheless she didn't think it was a good idea to tell her step-brother she just ended a very curious conversation with a certain BFF of hers, who dumped her for the next day in order to save the Waldorf name from the shame of a lame wedding.

He would start plotting, and Blair… well she would simply freak out as soon as she knew about it.

"Work." She mumbled then, thinking it was a good excuse. "A silly question. Nothing to be bothering about." She made her way to the exit then, knowing she wasn't a good poker player.

As soon as Serena turned her back to him, Chuck made her freeze in her spot.

"I almost forget…You look good in the picture on the today's newspaper. Page six suits to you." he stated, then sipped his drink, enjoying his step-sister's grimace. He'd gotten her.

Serena was speechless: she really hadn't see that coming, but she quickly reacted, regaining her composure.

"_Don't._" it sounded like an order, but Chuck wasn't quite sure about it; he's never seen his step sister bossing other people around.

"What? I'm not doing anything." He teased her, while a smirk crossed his face.

"Good for you. We've all been there, done that already." Now she was face to face with him, shaking her finger in front of his nose.

"And, just in case you forgot it, it didn't end well for any of us." Serena spat, throwing him a nasty look to show completely her disfavor.

He was going to replay when a voice from the back interrupted their conversation.

"Lily is looking for both of you. Dinner is ready." Jenny Humphrey was standing in the hallway, unaware of what she had just interrupted.

Serena, clearly upset about this situation, rushed out the room, not before warning his stepbrother with a final glance.

Once she disappeared around the corner, Jenny approached Chuck.

"Chuck… it has been _a while_ since the last time we spent some time together." her voice tried to be sensual, while her hand went down to his chest, to linger on the belt.

Immediately Chuck stopped her and pushed her away.

"We already talked about this: it was a one-time thing and it will never happen again. I'm not used to staying with the same girl twice."

He scoffed at her before taking a step to brush past her. Jenny quickly reached out to grab his arm and keep him from moving.

"But with B-" she hadn't the time to end the sentence because he immediately released from her grip and stood in front of her.

"_Don't_." He simply said. "You're not even worthy of mentioning _her_ name." his eyes, usually so cold and indecipherable, for a moment seemed lost in old memories.

Jenny nodded, unable to speak. She'd never seen him _nostalgic_.

"Good." Chuck settled his jacket, composing himself and erasing that shadow from his gaze. "And stop with getting high right before dinner: it's not appropriate. You should know that by now!"

* * *

**Note by the author:**

First at all, I want to apologize: I know I'm late. This last period has been crazy but I promise you, I'll try to be faster. :-)

Second of all, I hope you're not too disappointed by the lack of Chuck and Blair scenes. I'm sorry about it but I thought it was important explain the silence between them for all these years.

I mean, they're Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck… they don't just give up!

Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews and for putting this story on favorites. I really appreciate it. I hope you keep reviewing, because that makes me happy! ;-)

I want to say thank you to BookCaseGirl who did an awesome job beta reading this for me. I appreciate the help! So Thank You so much!!!


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